


In Keeping With Tradition

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BAMF Castiel (Supernatural), BAMF Dean Winchester, BAMF Sam Winchester, Collared Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester is Protective of Castiel, Forced Familiar!Cas, Forced Undressing, Gen, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapped Castiel (Supernatural), Manhandling, Rowena Is Family, Rowena Is Protective of Castiel, Sam Winchester is protective of Castiel, When Will People Learn Not To Touch The Winchesters’ Angel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 11:52:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18207953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Team Free Will rescues a wizard from demons, but unfortunately not his familiar.And a wizard must have a familiar.Fortunately, fate presents him with a very satisfactory candidate.





	In Keeping With Tradition

**Author's Note:**

> Cas is silenced in this, but not by a gag though you should note it takes place in case you don’t want to read that.
> 
> He is forcibly undressed and then redressed in different clothing, but it’s done by enchanted statues; however Alvis does watch.

“That fucker,” Dean snarled. “He _took_ him.”

Sam felt as angry as Dean did, and as scared for Cas, but he waved at Dean to lower his voice. His head hurt, his brains felt like they were pounding on the inside of his skull wanting to get out.

And, honestly, if not for the fact that they had an angel with healing abilities in the family, Sam was sure he’d have a serious brain injury by now given the amount of times somebody had whacked him, magically or otherwise, over the head.

Except right then they technically didn’t have an angel in the family, because said angel had been angel-napped by some covetous bastard of a wizard who didn’t seem to understand that angel was _theirs_.

Dean was staring at him, mouth open in shock, and Sam realised he’d maybe said all that out loud.

“So I think you should stay here,” Dean said, “and I’ll go get Cas.”

Sam shook his head, instantly regretted it as his brain matter protested the movement, loudly.

“No. We’ll save Cas together.”

This wasn’t the first time he’d been so concussed that his brain to mouth filter snapped clean through. 

It probably wouldn’t be the last.

++

The stone statues, one shaped like a Minotaur,the other like Medusa, held Cas still as the wizard fastened the collar in place around his neck.

Even then they didn’t let go, keeping him straining between them as Alvis stepped back to study him.

“It’s probably not the done thing to collar an angel,” he said, sounding almost apologetic. “But if you’re going to serve as my familiar-“

“I’m _not_!” Cas yelled and tugged hard at the stone grip around both his arms.

It didn’t help. Two exchanted statues appeared more than capable of holding on to him.

“You are,” Alvis said. “And it’s tradition that a familiar wear their wizard’s collar. And I, dear angel, am a staunch believer in tradition. With everything else falling apart around us, it’s the only way to maintain some kind of order, don’t you think?”

“I think,” Cas started, and then the collar tightened up and it was just as well he didn’t need to breathe.

But it also robbed him of the ability to speak, to swallow, and he glared his rage at the wizard who’d snatched him from the brothers, right after all three of them had rescued Alvis from a demonic assassination squad.

“Yes, I’ll let you know when to think,” Alvis said.

He went to the closet against the wall, and took out a black shirt and denims, and a pair of short leather boots.

“This would much better suit you,” he said, and wrinkled his nose at the angel’s attire. “I have a thing for black, again, tradition, I know. And I think it will really bring out your eyes.”

Cas turned his head away, the only defiance he could offer at that point.

He heard Alvis sigh, and then started to struggle again when he heard the man’s next words.

“Spare me the stubbornness of unbroken angels,” he said. “Put these on him.”

++

They already knew where Alvis lived, since it was there they’d dealt with the demon’s first attempt at killing the wizard.

There might have been a second, but there wouldn’t be a third.

Not just because they’d offed the demon who wanted the wizard dead, all because of some dispute involving a soul four decades earlier, but because Dean was going to kill the bastard himself.

Nobody took a member of his family, and just made off with him.

Telling himself that Alvis wouldn’t hurt Cas, that he wanted him alive and unharmed, helped, but it also brought to mind what the wizard wanted Cas for.

Cas wasn’t a slave. He wasn’t some possession to be owned and he wasn’t a resource.

Just because the demons had killed the wizard’s familiar didn’t mean he could take their angel to serve in his stead.

Dean glanced cautiously at Sam as they pulled into Alvis’s driveway.

He knew his brother had a concussion, but Sam had fought through blood loss and broken bones and still killed werewolves and vampires, and driven out demons.

He had this, and, once they’d saved Cas, the angel could heal him and then they could all go home.

And if Alvis had _touched_ Cas in the meantime, even ruffled the angel’s hair…

Dean would make him suffer before he shot the bastard in the face.

++

Dean, Cas figured, was going to kill Alvis. That was providing he didn’t find a way to shirk the collar and do the deed himself.

Being held still while Alvis fastened the leather collar, emblazoned with sigils that stopped him removing it, had been humiliating enough.

Having his spelled statues then strip him of his clothes and redress him in the outfit Alvis had passed over to them was even worse.

They hadn’t been gentle though Cas felt that was unintentional. They were made of stone, and he’d struggled and resisted the whole way, determined to do something to show his displeasure at the situation.

He just didn’t have it in him not to fight.

Stone fingers and flesh didn’t go together easily, and Cas could feel a hundred sharp bruises and stinging abrasions, and one minor fracture in his left wrist. All sore, all distractions, and none of them would heal quickly or properly while his Grace was locked in place by Alvis’s magic.

He wanted to know what the point was in having a _familiar_ only to keep him powerless.

Not that he planned on being there long enough to find out.

As soon as Alvis let his guard down, Cas would be gone, heading straight back to the brothers, who could probably remove this collar and then loan him some clothes until he could get his own back.

Alvis, though, seemed to know exactly what Cas was thinking.

“I was going to let you sleep. Rest, whatever it is angels do,” the wizard said, and pointed to a bed in the corner.

There was a length of chain fastened to the bedpost, with an open clip at one end that Cas supposed would fit the metal loop on his collar, and he glared at it and then at the wizard.

“But you’re still so defiant.” He shook his head. “You’d keep me up half the night thinking you found a way to pick the lock, or something. I know, lock picking angels, ridiculous.”

Not so much; the lock picking kit Sam had given him was in the pocket of his coat, now stuffed in the laundry hamper in the corner, but Cas had seen at least five other items around the room that he could use on the padlocked chain instead.

“Hold him there,” he told the statues. “But do be gentle. I want this one to eventually like me.”

The look on Cas’s face must have said what the chances of that were, because Alvis shrugged.

“Tolerate me, then. Or last not be so...disagreeable and ill-behaved.”

And then he was gone, turning out the light, probably as an extra punishment.

With the collar on, Cas couldn’t even see in the dark anymore, and he couldn’t deny being trapped there like that, held between two magically animated stone sentries was extremely unnerving.

But he was going to get out of this, either by himself, or with the help of his family.

++

The benefit of having a witch in the family was that Rowena had given them a list of spells and counterspells to use if they ever came up against another practitioner of magic.

When they’d called her to say what had happened, only distance prevented her from magically slapping Alvis around his house.

But she did tell them which spells were best to use, and told them to call her the moment they’d recovered ‘the handsome little tweety pie‘.

Dean rolled his eyes and handed the three scrolls to Sam, hoping his brother could keep it together enough for them to rescue Cas.

Of the two of them, Sam had shown the most skill with magic, and Dean had a feeling that at some point Rowena would have herself an apprentice.

He was surprisingly okay with that.

And had a feeling it might even end up a little more.

But right now, they had an angel to rescue, and Dean was still determined there’d be one less wizard on the planet before dawn.

Maybe eventually people would get the message that Castiel was off limits and stop trying to grab him every damn opportunity.

++

When the door opened, and the light came on, Cas was expecting Alvis to be back to torment him further, but instead he was astonished to see the brothers standing there.

He hadn’t expected them so quickly, and he’d been scared because he knew a house like the wizard’s couldn’t be so easily breached.

Yet here they were, and Cas saw the moment Dean spotted the collar.

That, and the two statues holding him.

He couldn’t even speak to warn them both, but Sam and Dean were sharp, even if Sam looked like he was having trouble keeping to his feet.

They took in Cas’s situation at a glance, and then Dean drew his gun and fired.

One bullet shattered the head of each statue, and Cas flinched as tiny stone flakes pricked at his skin.

Dean came running over, apologising, telling Cas to hold on, and then using the butt of his gun to smash the stone fingers wrapped around Cas’s wrists.

Apparently it was easier to destroy the statues if you weren’t collared and helpless in their hold.

Cas staggered away from the stone ruins, held up by Dean, and pointed furiously at the collar.

“Okay,” Dean said, and put his gun away long enough to undo the buckle holding the collar snug, too snug, around Cas’s neck.

Then it was gone, and his Grace unfurled and sparked through him.

The bruises, the tiny pricks of blood from the statues’ destruction, the fractured wrist, all faded, and Cas reached immediately for Sam and took hold of his arm.

Concussion, and the start of a minor brain bleed, and all gone in an instant.

The colour returned to Sam’s cheeks, and he straightened up, and then he pulled Cas into his arms.

“Yeah, we got him, enough PDA,” Dean griped, and Sam stepped back, shooting his brother a disgruntled look.

Cas laughed as Dean then pulled him in for a hug, before clapping his back and then holding him at arm's length to study his new outfit.

“Just another reason to kill this guy,” he grumbled. “Your shit in here?”

Cas retrieved his clothing from the hamper, and then they were turning to go when the door swung open and Alvis came rushing in.

“I should have know you wouldn’t just give him up,” he said, and he raised his hands, ready to throw a spell at them.

Sam got in there, first, and he didn’t even need Rosina’s scrolls. He spoke clearly, hastily, in Latin, but it worked, and Alvis was thrown hard into the wall.

Dean raised his gun, but Cas was faster. He put his hand on Alvis’s head, and there was a spark like a an electrical overload, and the wizard collapsed into a moaning heap.

“Did you just,” Dean started.

There was a pale red globe of light in Cas’s hand. “His magic,” the angel said, and glared down at Alvis. “You won’t need a familiar now.”

Dean’s fingers twitched around the butt of his gun. He didn’t kill people who weren’t a threat, but all the same what this bastard had done…

He put his gun away, and watched Cas grab a glass jar from a cabinet and put the magic inside.

“You really hanging on to it?”

Cas was glancing thoughtfully at Sam. “It might come in...handy.”

Sam was eyeing the jar with open curiosity. “Yeah, you never know. Come on. Let’s go home.”


End file.
